The Joker's Knightly Virtues
by fights
Summary: Sequel to the "Sweet Decay" series. The Joker adopts Bruce's more "knightly" traits and warps them into his own. That's what Bruce wants, right? And the Joker wants nothing more than to be Bruce's man. JokerxBruce, SLASH COMPLETE
1. Prudence

**Title:** The Joker's Knightly Virtues  
**Author:** Ol' Fighty (fights)  
**Prompt:** "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall." – Measure for Measure (Act II, Scene i)  
**Disclaimer:** The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.  
**Rating:** PG 15, Gay overtones.  
**Warnings:** Talks of sex, violence, cannibalism, AU.  
**Summary:** [Sequel to the "**_Sweet Decay_**" series.] The Joker adopts Bruce's more "knightly" traits and warps them into his own. That's what Bruce wants, right? And the Joker wants nothing more than to be Bruce's man.

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[**Prudence**] / 686 Words (Fanfic Only)

_Prudence is the exercise of sound judgment in practical affairs. It is classically considered to be a virtue, and in particular one of the four Cardinal virtues (which are with the three theological virtues part of the seven virtues). The quality or state of being prudent; wisdom in the way of caution and provision; discretion; carefulness; hence, also, economy; frugality._

_

* * *

  
_

Bruce's finger snapped onto his wards ear, pulling him over the glass, away from the bar and off the bloody mess he had made.

"Wasss'swong, Bwuccccee." Bruce. He had taken to calling Bruce Wayne, Bruce. Not Mr. Wayne as he had instructed. The Mr. or Mister part of his name had been the thin force-field protecting himself from the costumed, purple-loving maniac that Dr. Jonathan Crane somehow managed to call his son. Bruce sighed. A feat that Bruce was starting to respect the loony for. "Kuh-moooon, Bwuce."

The boy's cheeks were puffy and swollen, how many teeth had he lost. Would they grow back? Probably not.

"Made fun of our wing," the drunken babble reminded Bruce of baby-talk causing his nose to crinkle.

"Our wing?" Bruce shook his head in sheer exasperation, "whatever. I don't wanna know."

He was chewing on something, Bruce looked away disgusted as the boy swallowed and then used the back of his sleeve to wipe away the blood.

"I like it," the Joker leaned closer to Bruce, the sharp rank of cognac, gin, turpentine and something sour. Urine? Lime? Not to mention the blood that soaked the teen's chest like a red bib.

"Jesus," the blood.

It was wet all around the Joker's mouth, bits of flesh on the boy's face. Even the night crazies knew the Joker's face, name and reputation. The poor sap who mocked his ring was probably an out-of-towner...

It was enough to make the seasoned doctor sick.

Bruce lent a sympathetic look to the arriving paramedics, lowering the Joker into the back of "crap-mobile." He could hear the retching from the Ambulance staff already, the man was still alive. Although he never looked, always to scared to see the damages done to whoever the Joker chose to become his victim. Bruce's black car that looked dingy, but was fast and could handle sharp turns. He needed a "disposable" car, after receiving the Joker into his care. One that could get totalled from all the crap the kid did. The Joker wasn't a puker, but damn did he stink up a car with his stench.

Bruce entered the drivers seat and checked the mirror, the Joker closed his eyes. Hand flung over his eyes, the Joker looked drunk. Like a sad clown.

The Joker never took a cent from his caretaker—And to be frank the billionaire, even though Bruce was in no way frugal, was a bit terrified of what his house guest would do with the money if he did give him some.

The Joker did have a job, which was the problem.

He'd always get calls.

"From work," the Joker would say, cupping the mouthpiece of his cell, face mock serious, eyebrows furrowed.

After three days, Bruce would go searching.

Who else would?

One time Bruce had found the Joker in a Casino, nine inches deep in a senior colleague from work. He avoided paediatrics after that.

"Is this what you do with your money?" Bruce groaned into the wheel at the red light, Monday nights were always rough.

"I'm savin' sum of it," came a weak reply, "savin' up."

Bruce knew not to ask, "it's good you're saving up. It's nice to know you listen to what I say."

"I listen," those words made Bruce feel the sharp chill of the air conditioner.

"I'm saving up," the Joker added, "for the future."

A dangerous, bent smile made the teenage clown seemed more frightening in the back seat. A flash of silver, a white thumb curled over the metal.

Whatever plans the Joker had, the billionaire did not want to be involved in.

_"I hate schemers!"_

The memory of old voice from the security video caused him to shiver, despite the sweaty summer heat.

The tired father clenched his eyes into slits, focusing on driving home to his two young sons.

Bruce quickly attributed the "feeling" to the burst of icy air in his face and pulled the malfunctioning knobs, trying to lower the cold air (despite the sweltering heat) and ignore the heavy stare of green eyes in the back seat.

* * *

Author's Note:

Thank you Wikipedia and dictionary (dot) com. I looked up Knightly Virtues. These are the Joker's "Knightly Virtues." I don't know what that is worth, lol. What kind of virtues are those.


	2. Temperance

**Title:** The Joker's Knightly Virtues  
**Author:** Ol' Fighty (fights)  
**Prompt:** "Some rise by sin, and some by virtue fall." – Measure for Measure (Act II, Scene i)  
**Disclaimer:** The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.  
**Rating:** PG 15, Gay overtones.  
**Warnings:** Talks of sex, AU.  
**Summary:** [Sequel to the "**_Sweet Decay_**" series.] The Joker adopts Bruce's more "knightly" traits and warps them into his own. That's what Bruce wants, right? And the Joker wants nothing more than to be Bruce's man.

-

[**Temperance**] / 534 Words (Fanfic Only)

_Classically, temperance was defined as governing natural appetites for the pleasure of senses according to the bounds of reason. No virtue could be sustained in the face of inability to control oneself, if the virtue was opposed to some desire; this is why it is classified as a cardinal virtue, where "cardinal" signifies "pivotal." Moderation or self-restraint in action, statement, self-control._

_

* * *

  
_

The Joker rarely broke or made a mess of any of Bruce's belongings... On purpose.

Believing, or even hoping the Joker wouldn't make a mess was like acting as if the rain would be kind enough to leave your roof dry.

Now there were always two maids in the manor to help Alfred with the cleaning.

Maids that needed frequent replacing due to, not so much the fact that the fifteen year old frightening... More... The Joker's wandering attentions caused problems, especially when there was very little rules to keep hands from wandering. (Bruce had been relieved that the Joker also had a sexual education and used condoms, more reasons to respect Dr. Crane.) The teenager was sexually insatiable, disappearing for an hour and then returning with the smell of bodily fluids. Even with the release, the clown could be heard moaning (as Bruce's room was close to his ward's for safety reasons) even in the morning.

But lately, the teen had seemed distant and unapproachable.

Three days were up.

Three days of pumping himself up for the conflict, Bruce would have to make himself ready again as his confidence dwindled.

Bruce turned the knob fast. The boy never locked his door.

Bruce's eyes were clenched shut, not knowing what to expect.

He still didn't expect what he saw.

Pictures compiled, bits of sting like a web connecting newspaper clippings on a building like tower of paper cemented in the centre of the clown's room. The Joker was sitting in the middle of the paper stack, gluing something to the interior.

It was a disturbing take on the advice Bruce had given the Joker about anger management... A closer look and he could see whose photographs lined the building.

_**_

_"There's more to life than sex," Bruce concluded._

_"C'mon Bruce, if you got laid more often you'd be more happy and you'd get to adopt less." The Joker had taken to teasing  
his surrogate father about his non-existent sex life._

_"Bruce already has a legitimate son," Dick added, he had taken to eavesdropping. Appearing home, more and more._

_Bruce growled. "One is enough."_

_**_

"Is that what this about?" Talia al Guhl and Damian al Guhl photographs were more visible, while the text was incomprehensible. More pictures of Damien than Bruce himself owned, and to be fair he and Talia weren't in love with each other for more than a week. "I barely get to see him, I hear his temper is worse than yours though."

The Joker was unmoving, Bruce grabbed a shirt for the Joker. It was magenta and frilly, but it was better than being naked.

He pressed the... Dress shirt? Blouse through the tower onto the green haired teen's shoulder. "I was a long time ago. She's a weapon's manufacturer now, I could never marry her. Not even for our son's sake."

The Joker blinked, a bit stunned. "Is that it?"

"Yup." Bruce rolled up his gloves, he didn't want Alfred to see this mess or the Joker naked. And Alfred laughed when he bought cleaning supplies for his own bedroom.

They were for the Joker.

"Psstppp," the Joker knocked over the information structure as if it were a stack of cards.

* * *

Author's Note:

Thank you Wikipedia and dictionary (dot) com. I looked up Knightly Virtues. These are the Joker's "Knightly Virtues." I don't know what that is worth, lol. What kind of virtues are those.

Damien will appear in later chapters, I had to do research and by that I mean reading the comic scans online to find out who he was. Hopefully I can squeeze the Justice League in. I've been watching Unlimited, although I missed the prior series. I love the Flash in that, and Hal Gordon... Mostly the founders. 3

I decided to call the 3-part fanfic series prior, "Sweet Decay." I'm off to compile and upload to .

I write what I please. LOLZ


	3. Compassion

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

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[**Compassion**]/ 553 Words (Fanfic Only)

_Compassion is a profound human emotion prompted by the pain of others. More vigorous than empathy, the feeling commonly gives rise to an active desire to alleviate another's suffering. A feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another who is stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering._

* * *

The Joker dropped his knife.

He fell with the body, hoping to catch it before it slumped to the floor. But he faltered, slipping on blood and losing his balance. Arms failing comically, the distress worsening his fears. Fighters and thugs scattering to the siren of the police into the black of the night.

Gloved hand grabbed the folded arms, attempting to wrench open the crumpled form of Bruce Wayne.

Red stained his white shirt.

"No, no, no..."

He had never saved a man before. Never wanted to save a man so much.

"Bruce, don't die."

Bruce Wayne's hands held his middle, hopefully not to keep his organs from spilling out.

"Bruce!" The Joker fought between looking at the wound and leaving the cut covered.

The man winced in annoyance, shoving his AWOL ward away and attempting to stand up.

"I trusted him to have less knife experience than you," his hand moved to reveal a shallow, superficial cut to the abdomen. It quickly returned and held the cut shut. "My gamble paid off. I can yell at you later..."

The Joker fell silent, watching his guardian pull away from his support. "You're not going to turn me in?"

"I'M... Me, ME! I'm going to the police," Bruce shook his head, the blood loss was fair. If he had received the Joker's knife to the gut... He would be dead from blood loss, entrails spilling to his feet. "To say that I stumbled into an underground fighting ring looking for the Joker..."

He took a deep breath, god it stank in here. Like cock and blood. "And I didn't find him. You're going to run and hide."

Bruce had never seen the Joker look so pathetic, it was pathetic to be a fighter in a underground ring, but he just looked...

"YOU need to get out of here, gods what am I going to tell Crane when you get arrested by the police." Bruce held his words, trying not to profane himself. "And no looking for the guy who knifed me! No more knife fights!"

The Joker nodded meekly, stumbling into the darkness. Black dripping down his eyes, like ink tears.

Unlike Bruce the Joker didn't wait more than a day... An hour before they parted, he returned.

The policemen at the scene were in on the ring, there to capture Bruce and hold him in confinement until they found a way to seal his lips. But when they realized they were looking for dirt on a clean suit, they panicked.

A day later he was in the Police station furiously cutting his guardian loose and hauling him to the hospital.

He drove badly, mostly because his hands were so bruised from punching the shit out of the corrupt police. He didn't even care if he went to jail, he was the Joker. He would make sure they were in jail too and he could murder them slowly through madness. If they could catch him... And he still felt like letting them live.

And it was Gotham, there was always plenty of madness to go around.

The Joker turned the car into the hospital. The staff tearfully procured their friend's limp body from the back seat, promising the best of service.

He didn't hear them, already speeding down the road, into the night.


	4. Courtesy

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

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[**Courtesy**]/ 588 Words (Fanfic Only)

_Courtesy (Etiquette) is a code that influences the expectations and behaviour of social behavior, according to contemporary conventional norms within a society, social class, or group. Rules of etiquette are usually unwritten, but aspects of etiquette have been codified from time to time. Excellence of manners or social conduct; polite behavior._

* * *

"You've got a lot of nerve coming here," Dick Grayson held the path of the hall with his stance, "because of you dad got hurt."

"Dad?" The Joker cocked his head, "that's funny, here I had a feeling that you may have a little feeling for your dad. You know... A bit of a hot feeling, a flush of rouge in the face."

The Joker's eyes fell his rivals... package. "A little tingling.. You know in the groin area. (_tlsh_)."

His gloved fingers wiggled in the handsome gymnast's faces, causing Dick's nose to wrinkle from the smell.

Semen and blood, the damned freak always stank of semen, sex and blood.

"Fuck you!" Dick descent was halted by the realization of their surroundings.

"Sounds a lot like," a snap of fingers and a horrible smile made Dick freeze, "like a crush."

Dick grit his teeth, struggling not to kill this damned demon sent from hell to torment him. The last thing that his father needed was a demon haunting his room when he needed to heal and relax, the cut had worsened due to the late treatment but it was "a flesh wound" as Bruce put it. Still with the blood loss and the starvation...

"What about it," Dick replied cooly, "he's not my real father."

"Right, but a bit of advice." The Joker's lips smacked, "if you want him to be your honey buns, you should (_tsch_) (_tslk_) probably stop calling him **daddy**."

The fifteen year old patted his rival on the shoulder, as his smouldered with the hard advice. The 20-something might be a acrobat, a shining star, but the Joker was more than a background clown in Bruce's circus.

"He'll never love you, you're a freak."

"And father and son incest is your solution," the Joker let his finger spin in the air and leaped with a whoop.

"Bruce-Bruce-Bruce Wayne," he peered into the open door and gave a deep bow, "hello madam, I apologize upon intruding into your humble (ahem) bed-chambre."

Bruce looked at the Joker, hands folded in his lap. "Huh?"

"It means bed in French," Bruce raised an eyebrow, although with all the school the Joker missed it would not be odd that the boy would be terrible in the language.

"Git," the Joker slapped a bear off a seat and pulled the foldable chair closer, until it was close enough to be uncomfortably close to the billionaire. "Hi."

"Hello Joker," Bruce relied, playing along. He let the gloved hand sneak into his own. "What are you doing, Joker."

"Looking into your eyes, they're so much nicer when they're not bloodshot and squinty." The Joker sighed.

It was a girls sigh.

Bruce's eye twitched.

Oh right. It didn't dawn on Bruce (until then) that the boy was still infatuated about being in love with him. It was one of the quirks of being Bruce Wayne.

"And here I thought you were going to kill them," Bruce sat in his bed, "always unconventional."

_"For the amount of money that I am paying the man in prison to rape them every night, I'll be surprised if they don't do the job themselves."_

"What was that?"

The Joker sighed, still gazing innocently into Bruce's eyes. "You're so beautiful..."

"Right..." Bruce turned his head to the door, and bellowed: "NURSE.

"You didn't have to yell," the Joker giggled undoing his shirt. "Unlike, Dick the dick, I have the courtesy to take care of those who take care of me."

"What, what, what? What's that—OH GOD!"


	5. Justice

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

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[**Justice**]/ 510 Words (Fanfic Only)

_Justice is the concept of moral rightness based on ethics, rationality, law, natural law, fairness and equity. A conception of justice is one of the key features of society. Theories of justice vary greatly, but there is evidence that everyday views of justice can be reconciled with patterned moral preferences. The quality of being just; righteousness, equitableness, or moral rightness: to uphold the justice of a cause._

* * *

"HI MR WAYNE! WHY WHAT A LOVELY EVENING!" The Joker began to spin into the room with his arms wide, "WHY I LOVE ENTERTAINING! WHO ARE YOUR GUESTS?"

"Is this... One of you sons, Bruce?" The man in the green suit looked the man in the purple suit and just made a perplexed expression not understanding the situation.

"It's okay, John Stewart. This is Jonathan Crane's ward," Bruce announced, and the boy curtsied pulling on the tails of his purple suit, "the Joker."

The room erupted into whispers as the crowd conversed.

"So he WAS the Joker."

"I've never seen a picture."

"Has anyone even managed to GET a picture?"

The Joker who had broken into security systems all over the world. The same Joker who was a both a genius in maths and sciences, but never attended class. The Joker lived in Bruce's mansion and ate dinner with him and lived a life that any orphan (or model) would envy.

A Joker whose hands Bruce was prying from his behind.

In front of his guests.

Despite all this, Bruce retained a serene expression. Which seemed to hold the respect of his peers, while wrestling the clown's wandering hands from his neither regions. "Yes, Diana."

"The Joker?" Diana asked, writing a note to herself. Bruce stole a glance a what she was writing, and it wasn't his concern... He just... Felt bad for the Joker. "Isn't he..."

"I'm right here," the Joker's good mood faded into something... His face was too contorted to discern an expression. He began to stalk towards the black haired beauty, "is it the scars? Do they bother you?"

"Oh no," Bruce chimed in, saving the woman from torment. A firm grip on his arm and a charming smile that horrified his guests placated the angered clown. Bruce Wayne smiling? For the Joker. Bruce ignored the flash from the camera, making a note to kill Clark. "I like your smile. It's so wide."

Even Shayera, stifled a laugh.

The Joker kicked his foot, red flushing through his white make-up. "Aw shuck, B."

Wally snorted, which earned him a sharp biting stare from Bruce.

"Who are these guys, Alfred said they weren't investors."

"They're not," Bruce smiled, "they're my friends."

"I'm your friend, oh wait. I'm not a weirdo like Dick." The Joker seemed to be in a panic, stumbling over a plant towards the door. "We're not friends, Bruce. Remember that! We're not friends!"

There was a clamour before the door slammed, the Joker seemed to be running from an unseen enemy.

Bruce turned to the deeply interested crowd, after watching their stern friend being molested by the Joker, the rumour's of Dick Grayson having a more than normal admiration for his father, even Clark was getting out his pad and pen.

"Any questions on the Charity Ball?" Bruce pointed to the reporter, "yes Clark?

"So if you're not friends, what is your relationship with the Joker."

Bruce knew his stare wouldn't kill of phase Clark, being friends with Superman was a pain in the ass.

-

Author's Note:

Thank you Wikipedia and dictionary (dot) com.

I took a while to think about it, and I settled on Superman to still exist. Bruce Wayne is still friends with Superman, although I haven't delved into his role in the Justice League (as that noose is tightening around my neck) I decided that Clark and the other's should still keep their powers. I mean why is Tania al Guhl a weapon's manufacturer when Superman is still flying around! That's sexism! Unless she's not! (Face of shock.) I'm just shit talking, I dunno. I just like Superman, I got a soft spot in mah heart for him that people poke with a stick. I don't have to decide what goes on in this universe today, I'll do it... The next post.

Screw fanfic-fanciness, it's mah Bifthday today. I write whut ah please.

Also, the hold up with "Prison of Pearls" is that I put all my love into it for you, da reader! But it's coming, and it ACTUALLY get's Beta'ed! Because PoP is AWESUM.

WHY ARE THERE SO MUCH KNIGHTLY VIRTUES. I'll two more and then da ends.

Seriously, though. I'm twenty-three. WEIRD!


	6. Fortitude

**Prompt:** "Crossovers." Eyeshield 21 and Batman [BB/DK]  
**Word count:** 598  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own Eyeshield 21 or any Batman properties.

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[**Fortitude**]/ 598 Words (Fanfic Only)  
_Courage, also known as bravery, will, intrepidity, and fortitude, is the ability to confront fear, pain, risk/danger, uncertainty, or intimidation. "Physical courage" is courage in the face of physical pain, hardship, or threat of death, while "moral courage" is the ability to act rightly in the face of popular opposition, shame, scandal, or discouragement. Mental and emotional strength in facing difficulty, adversity, danger, or temptation courageously._

* * *

"Nice to see you, Mr. Wayne. I'm glad you were able to make it. The Joker's morale will definitely raise from your presence." The fact that the coach also called him the Joker made Bruce feel uneasy. Still he outreached his hand for a handshake, gripping the aged instructor's hand firmly.

The young teen took more of Bruce's advice to heart, but as always it always surprised the billionaire the way his ward interpreted it. Bruce Wayne clutched his camera in hand, Dr. Jonathan Crane had been elated when he heard his 'son' was on the football team, "a good, stimulating sport for the body and mind."

And the pressed for Bruce to send him pictures everyday.

A task that Bruce found himself obliging.

It was nice to see the Joker doing normal high school things, although being in a football team was quite a surprise. It was less often that Bruce caught his house guest engaging in affairs other than gambling, being in underground fighting rings and engaging in sexual intercourse with the staff at Bruce's hospital.

"Well I was going to say, 'What's a clown doing on the football team,' but I just saw the Japanese team." There was a big, burly 'boy' (if he could be called that) with a chestnut shaped head who was smiling like a Buddha while eating a cake and sitting on a creaking bench. A monkey faced boy was receiving a toss from a balding kid, while a short, spiky haired Japanese boy materialised suddenly, skidding to a stop.

"This is just a non-serious match," the coach explained, "apparently the Joker is good friends with that Hiruma kid from Deimon High. It's good practice, and so far both teams seem to be enjoying themselves. Being on a football team has done that boy a lot of good. The Joker's learning all sorts of positive social skills, he's a born leader."

"A born leader you say?" Bruce looked over to his ward to catch a mischievous wink of the Joker's eye.

He looked back to the coach and noticed that the man had started talking to a red haired Japanese girl cheerfully. All around the field there were hoards of girls from other schools watching the Joker with fascination and giggling to one another. Bruce felt his head throb thinking about the trouble that would arise from the Joker impregnating a teenage girl. All his female partners were older women with successful careers and had no intention of bearing children soon.

The Joker turned his back to exchange words with his demonic looking friend and suddenly a heated spat launched between the two erupted. The argument ending in the blonde boy being carried off by a broad shouldered, mohawked 'teenager.'

The Joker removed his protective plating and waved goodbye to the foreign guests and his own team before skipping towards Bruce and attempting to embrace him despite the billionaires protesting dodges.

"What just happened?" Bruce asked after the Joker had tackled him behind a bush.

"He said you were hot," the Joker responded begrudgingly, watching as his team played keep the ball away from one of the burlier boys on the team. "His boyfriend didn't like that."

Bruce stiffened, as the Joker pressed against him like a cat. "That's... nice."

"Oh, and I said you were taken." The Joker popped a lollipop into his mouth which (caused Bruce eyes widened as he had realised that it had come from in his own pocket and wondered how long the teen had been stashing them in his suits) and squealed, "Cherry! My favourite!"

Note:  
Thank you Dictionary(.)com and Wikipedia!

Hiruma and the Joker seem the type to be friends, lol!


	7. Humility

**Title:** The Joker's Knightly Virtues  
**Author:** Ol' Fighty (fights)  
**Disclaimer:** The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.  
**Rating:** PG 15, Gay overtones.  
**Warnings:** Talks of sex, AU.  
**Summary:** [Sequel to the "**_Sweet Decay_**" series.] The Joker adopts Bruce's more "knightly" traits and warps them into his own. That's what Bruce wants, right? And the Joker wants nothing more than to be Bruce's man.

[**Humility**]

_Humility, or being humble, is the defining characteristic of an unpretentious and modest person, someone who does not think that he or she is better or more important than others. The opposite of humility is pride. The quality or condition of being humble; modest opinion or estimate of one's own importance, rank, etc._

_

* * *

  
_

"A student named the Joker has been revealed to be Best Selling Author, Jack Napier." The beautiful reporter spoke to news in a mesmerizing way, too bad things never worked out between himself and Miss Vale. He still watched her on television, and she demanded that Bruce Wayne pay attention to the world outside of his job, his volunteer job and his parenting job. "His serial criminal fiction novels always debut top of the charts, giving vampire princes and school boys with magic a run for their money. The Joker was discovered be Jack Napier when his book had been optioned for a series of films. The story of a town over run with crime, a court jester and a knight have riveted the hearts of women all over the country. The serial killer series had been a favourite of many, despite being banned in many countries."

Bruce scanned the paper, which said the same thing. Everyone was going crazy over this "Dark Knight."

Perhaps he would read the book that the Joker was oh-so-subtley trying to press him into reading.

"When asked who he would like to play the role of the Dark Knight, the Joker said this—"

The video cut away to a press conference held at a hotel, the Joker was behind a table with room overflowing with cameras, videos, radio shows holding on his every word.

"Well, if you don't know, I'm currently living under the roof of Bruce Wayne." (tlch) The way the Joker snapped as he talked had always made Bruce wonder if it had made the Joker... The Joker. Now watching the news, he wondered if it was the reason why he shied from the camera. His odd snaps and personality irregularities would have made a normal teenager shy and awkward, but regardless, the Joker seemed to feed off the lime-light. Arms wide. An entertainer in every sense. He winked at the camera, and Bruce lurched before falling back as if the gesture was intended for his eyes only. "He is a handsome man, good physique, alas I begged him--"

—Begged him indeed, even wearing mascara so that the tears would run down his face an make him appear even more shameful and bawdy, like a hooker splayed legs on free Friday.

The tears were hard to get out of everything. The Joker had taken to rolling on the carpet, dripping big, inky stains of his fluffy carpet, then when he moved to clean it, the Joker began to wipe his tears on his white shirt.

"Yes, I, award winning writer, begged--"

—In letters, harassing him at work with odd letters, one card fell out of the ceiling about his desk at work and hit him in the forehead.

"--BEGGED desperately--"

Appearing in his closet in the morning, or worse the shower. Bruce barely manage to conceal his manhood when the Joker surprised him that time.

Even the usually unfazed reporters seemed swayed by his charms. "But he said that he was too shy. Mr. November, December, January, February, sometimes chilly March on the calendars of many," the Joker laughed the way one would at the joke of a good friend's mother, "but we MANAGED," he looked a bit disappointed and then smiled, "to get Christian Bale to fill the role. I was asked by the direction to audition to play the Jester, but I felt that it would be a bit weird—" the Joker seemed to contemplate this there at the press conference rather than at home, of all places, "—For me to play the Jester, wouldn't you?"

"We'll fill you in with more details of the full cast later this evening."

The Joker looked over at Bruce awaiting his response, eyes loving.

"And?"

Bruce wanted to stutter his words, but managed a "you did good."

The Joker let out a resounding whoop.


	8. Mercy

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

-

[**Mercy**]

_Mercy is a word used to describe compassion shown by one person to another, or a request from one person to another to be shown such leniency or unwarranted compassion for a crime or wrongdoing. Compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender, an enemy, or other person in one's power; compassion, pity, or benevolence._

* * *

-

"Are you aware that your...." The bald man in the no longer pristine white suit jabbed his finger accusingly at the Joker who was munching on h'our dourve, ignoring the tyrant as if he were a deer in foliage. "—Son is a lunatic? He's out of control!"

The crowd of elite, politicians and movie stars erupted in a chorus of murmurs, looking to one another for a shared opinion even though the audience all had conflicting feelings. The unexpected guests looked unabashed, tawdry prostitutes and two-bit thugs. All "friends" of the Joker, not one of them was his age.

"He's not my son." Bruce stated, Bruce then turned and took a step towards his wayward ward and straightened his collar. The Joker seemed to purr at this positive attention. Bruce surveyed his work and turned back to his angry guest. "But I won't let you arrest him."

"Bruce," Lex Luthor stated in a very threatening tone, "Bruce, he's a criminal."

Bruce took a deep breath.

He really didn't care about what the Joker thought, no "being on your side" crap that idiot Crane pulled. He was not the Joker's friend, father... Only his guardian.

But wasn't that everything... If not more than anything anyone else was to the Joker.

He and Luthor were old friends turned by business into rivals. It was no hard feelings, but some of that aggravation in the board room had no business being on the dance floor...

Bruce began to feel a bit nervous.

If only that was the problem. Dick Grayson, Lex Luthor, Wally West... Even Clark Kent admitted checking out his butt time to time. And just yesterday, Jonathan Crane asked him to marry him after Bruce had made the man breakfast. (The Joker had been furious.) Lex Luthor was no different, not that he had a crush. The look in his eyes were not moony and bright light stars, but deep and thoughtful like the ocean.

Lex Luthor was no ordinary secret (super-powered) admirer, he took the Joker seriously as a romantic rival. Or anyone for that matter. Crushing his opponents left and right for the conquest of Bruce Wayne's hand.

"Then why do you care so much Bruce," Alexander Luthor continued, "he's no Dick Grayson or Jason Todd or Tim Drake. He's no orphan, he has parents. Quite suitable parents, none the less, STILL the Joker belongs in Arkham."

"I care," Bruce avoided looking at the Joker, or the inappropriate guests he had brought to the New Year's Party. "I don't care what anyone says, he's been living under my roof for four years," despite Jonathan Crane returning to Gotham a year ago and A Jonathan Crane who had started living with them as well due to being evicted due to forgetting to pay rent and looking for an apartment for himself and his of age _son_. "What do you know about his parents, they wouldn't know what to do with child like the Joker. Yes, he's troubled delinquent, but he's a brilliant academic as well and an accomplished writer."

Bruce couldn't bear to see the expression on the Joker's face.

Here he was.

Defending the Joker.

Again.

"Because nobody cares about him."

"Aw shucks, Mista Jay, you got a real good friend dere." Gushed the sweet, sugary tone of one of the Joker's harlequins.

Bruce body rose like a hero's would. A paradigm of knightliness shining so brightly that even Luthor who had been surrounded and seen so many riches—had to wince.

The two titans glared at each other, daring the other for another strike.

"You're to good for him, Bruce." Lex whispered, while their bodies touched and electrified the room with their intensity. "Don't keep doing this," a woman gasped, as the two business giants lodged arms in a struggle in the middle of a dance. The vein Bruce forehead throbbed when Lex's voice honeyed like a thick glaze, "he'll hurt you. You know I never would."

"Enough."

Bruce threw the Metropolis Prince into the arms of his bodyguards when the lights went out, the electricity in the room was still running. Bruce moved in the darkness, careful of an assassin's blade.

Bruce felt his head pull forward, brushing the whispering lips, "four, three, two, one."

Their lips sealed together.

When the lights came back on, the confetti had gone off and everyone was celebrating the new year.

Bruce looked at the Joker's eyes and felt the fireworks explode in his stomach.

"I hope your New Year is as good as the last."


	9. Purity

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

-

[**Purity**]

_Purity is the absence of impurity in a substance. The condition or quality of being pure; freedom from anything that debases, contaminates, pollutes, etc._

* * *

-

"Luthor," the Joker downed the glass and sneered mockingly at the arrival of his love rival, "Lex 'the Sex' Luthor. What brings you here to my lowly hovel? Make yourself at home, maybe we can half a seat or something. Bar is ass crowded."

Lex Luthor smiled knowingly, up to no good as the suspected. It was his town, no matter how hard Bruce tried to drill his compassion into the Joker, the Joker never stopped making the turf his. "Oh, I can do something about that."

The gunshot hit the ceiling, and there was a frightened scream from the floor above.

Still no one moved, as the Joker hadn't given the word.

The Joker gulped another, he looked at the bar keep and nodded, "give me that bottle and get out of here."

With the Jim Beam in hand, the Joker shouted. "All of you civilians, if you don't wanna get shot you might as well get out!"

The civilians left, surprisingly not running. But they did live in Gotham, this was run of the mill. Especially if the Joker was involved.

Of course the clowns, HIS clowns stayed behind. A contingency plan of sorts that involved most shooting and no plan.

"You know I couldn't buy your men, Joker." Lex reached over the counter and grabbed a bottle, "you can't buy madness like that. How they work for you, I don't know."

The Joker poured himself another glass, "you came to talk to me about my men or my real estate. It's not like you to come somewhere, spend you expensive time to sit in a bar with me."

"I did come to talk to you about real estate," Lex's low voice was sultry, it disgusted the Joker. He dinned with bums in the slums, with crime lords and the Mafia. He went to social events with Bruce, with slimy politicians that licked their licks when looking at Bruce's body. But Lex was always the most disgusting creep of them all. Mostly because he was bald. "And about your man."

The Joker fidgeted, a signal, not an error.

"I'm talking about the real estate of which you seem to have the most claim on," Lex's words sank deep, "the man by the name of Bruce Wayne."

Before the sentence could end, the Joker had his gun out.

"I've tried to take him away from you many times, and every time I see him, he's with you."

"He likes me. He's going to marry me. He may seem incorruptible, because he is—but that's why he's my Brucey-Bear." The Joker giggled like a school girl, pressing the gun to Lex's head and added, "maybe I'll invite you to the wedding if you live."

Lex continued, "you know, he really is too good for you. I guess he knows you sleep around, but all the needless killing, does he know about the killing? Of course he'll know that you killed me."

The Joker grit his teeth, a giggle of mirth and gun giddiness spilling from his anger bitten lips.

"He would never condone this lifestyle," Lex Luthor laughed heartily, then his posture took a serious stance. "I would never let you touch him with your filthy hands. Shoot him."


	10. Devotion

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

-

[**Devotion**]

_To appropriate by or as if by a vow; set apart or dedicate by a solemn or formal act. Profound dedication; consecration. Often, devotions. Ecclesiastical. Religious observance or worship; a form of prayer or worship for special use._

* * *

The thunder crashed down as the windows burst open, the Joker tripped discoloured water like an old sponge. A gash on his arm. The coat torn, resembling the boa of a theatre attendee. Everything he touched in the room became sullied instantly, and he looked at the mess as if he had infected a sacred ground with disease. The Joker looked as if he had been shot at all night, but thankfully, had not been shot. No leaking blood sprang forth, like leaks from a barrel. Bruce sighed with relief.

"Bruce."

The billionaire rose from the bed, grabbing his robe close by and moving towards his guest.

The contact made his chest wet, making his shirt damp and cold.

The Joker was on him like an octopus, fingers like suction cups on his body. Grasping at Bruce, feeling him.

"A cuckoo in a storm," Bruce grumbled. Like Zeus, the bird was no bird. No sweet robin or dazzled cuckoo. The man, the grown man he held to his chest was a maniac. A criminal and Bruce had worked so hard to change, but found himself bending. Cradling the frightened, wounded Joker to his chest as it would right the wrongs. It had been seven years, much like three hundred. Each day, agonizing and rewarding. The Joker had grown so much, but changed so little.

"Lex Luthor," the Joker managed through his fatigue, his heart was beating fast, "tried to stop me from ever seeing you again."

Bruce looked at the state of the Joker's attire. There were branches in his clothes and in his skin. "How did you..."

"I ran here," the Joker gasped, "I flew over your fence with wings of love."

The way that the Joker spread his arms, like a madman, seeming so much like a child than a battered criminal. Like the lost, confused child he had been in the arena, the day that Bruce almost had been gutted. He fell back to the earth with exhaustion, in his mentor's arms, fingers locking tight. "I won't give you to him."

Bruce wanted to convince the... Adult... The Joker was an adult now, more mature and harder to fool.

Instead he assured the Joker with the truth, "I'd never go with Lex."

"No," the Joker shoved him to the bed, pinned down under the frail form with sheer will. "He'll take you. Don't go."

"I won't go to him," Bruce tried to remove the Joker, but was crushed in a hug.

"Stay with me," the Joker kissed him with such fierce passion, his madness surging into Bruce's body. An influx of emotions, of both sad and happy. "Be mine instead."

"I can't," Bruce looked conflicted. Wanting to run down the halls. The Joker would chase him. Make a scene, perhaps profess his love in the empty mansion and every hall would echo his love. A love that Bruce tried to shove down, erase, ignore as it shattered all his morals and standards. Rattled his very core. The Joker kissed him again, and again, hand roaming, trying to find entrances into Bruce's closed off heart. "No."

"I'll make you love me, I won't stop until you're crazy for me."

Bruce believed him, flinching as the Joker wrapped his hands around the older man's cock.

He had sex with many women in his life. Fathered one illegitimate son. He was not shy about sleeping with men, but in the heat of the moment for the first time, on that night, he found himself beneath a man being penetrated for the first time. A man only 21 years old, much older than the fifteen year old bright eyed troubled youth. Their hand wrapped together like seaweed, swaying in the ocean. The Joker's hair was wet, matted with sweat, gasping like a drowning man, eyes fighting to stay open. When he came and apologized profusely, something he struggled with as he was never sorry in his life.

That night they stayed together, Bruce was awake the Joker snuggled to his side as he had been the woman that night and said:

"I love you, Bruce."

It haunted him.

Bruce never slept that night.

-

* * *

Note:   
Thanks to wikipedia (.) com and dictionary (.) com for references to the virtues.


	11. Peace

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

-

[**Peace**]

_Peace is a term that most commonly refers to an absence of aggression, violence or hostility, but which also represents a larger concept wherein there are healthy or newly-healed interpersonal or international relationships, safety in matters of social or economic welfare, the acknowledgment of equality and fairness in political relationships and, in world matters, peacetime; a state of being absent any war or conflict._

* * *

-

After that, as much Bruce tried locking his doors, closing and sealing his windows, the Joker managed to crawl into or be in his bed at 10:00PM every night. It irritated him to no end, hired help was hard to get not to mention security. Every wall Bruce put up was penetrated—Bruce shook his head trying not to think about penetrations. Or the looks from Alfred when he tried to close his room off to his butler of many years.

It made him feel juvenile, but how could he hide the tell tale signs of make-up caked on laundry. It'd be easier to tell Alfred that he took to sleeping with prostitutes than the Joker.

Things were different, crimes didn't get worse or better, but merely plateaued. The Joker seemed pacified for now.

Jason Todd seemed to get along with Joker, but the way the boy's face strained made Bruce worry that he was threatening him. Tim Drake, having known the Joker longer was at ease. Dick Grayson rarely came home, and by the time Bruce arrived he was leaving and refused to stay for dinner.

This continued for four months until Bruce just gave up and left the window unlocked and today was one of those days that he regretted leaving the window unlocked.

"Joker—"

"J," the Joker looked up from his hand held game and smiled, "I thought we agreed on J."

"Your clothes, can you hang them." Bruce didn't expect the Joker to get up and hang them so quickly, he immediately felt bad for asking.

He felt the Joker climb back into bed, the weight shifting as the Joker leaned close to his body.

"Bruce." The Joker pulled him, moving his limbs like a marionette. Easing into every groove of Bruce's body that he could fit in."Just blame me, make this all my fault."

"No, Joker." Bruce tried to move his lips, but the Joker's were too wide to avoid. "You can't have it your way."

Bruce eyes met with his younger protégé's. He failed to teach him any good traits or practices, at least he could try to teach him one life skill that would carry him through life. "We're going to try to love each other." For the first time, Bruce kissed back. The Joker looked surprised, "Properly."

And they were at peace.


	12. Endurance

**Disclaimer**: The Joker own Batman, everyone knows that. I don't own Batman, nor make money off this piece of fanfiction.

-

[**Endurance**]

_Endurance (also called sufferance) is the ability for humans to exert themselves for long period of time. The fact or power of enduring or bearing pain, hardships, etc. The ability or strength to continue or last, esp. despite fatigue, stress, or other adverse conditions; stamina. _

* * *

-

Cassandra picked up the large shoe with both her hands and dropped it. Then smiled and laughed with a clapping bounce. She giggled when a clown picked her up with both hands and pressed their cheeks together. Most of the sounds she pronounced were pure gibberish, but anyone would make out her squeals of laughed at she was showered with kisses.

"Blzzt," the Joker pressed his puckered lips to her chubby cheek. Her hair stood on end like a roosters. So much so that even Dick Grayson was calling her rooster girl.

"Duck, Duck." The baby clapped calling Dick Grayson so she could grab a strand of his long hair.

Dick obliged, giving a smile to Diana and moving towards the small infant. "Yes, cruel mistress Cassandra."

"With a name like Cassandra, who needs a super power," the Joker teased his daughter, "Who's gonna take down Luthor's empire. You, yes you."

Cassandra was too busy playing with Dick's hair to hear the rest of the Joker's evil plans and Dick merely rolled his eyes when the Joker mentions bombs and lazers and what not.

"Ow," Dick pretended that it hurt by scrunching up his face playfully and then making an exaggerated scowl.

"Having fun, Dick?" The words were playful, without the scorn or hatred from the past.

Dick tried to tug down Cassandra's dress, but because she was an infant she fought back, pulling the fluffy, layered pink dress. "All the hot girls are taken, J."

"I'm sure Beast Boy is single—" The green skinned Teen Titan wrist was immediately grabbed by a fuming Jason Todd, who shot death glares at his father-in-law and his older brother. Tim shrugged and was pulled into a dance with the much older Selina Kyle. How so many super heroes (and villains) seemed to gravitate around Bruce Wayne was a mystery.

"C'mon let's dance," Jason announced gruffly, face reddening.

"But I just met you," Beast Boy protested, "hey, wait!"

"There goes your blackmail material," Dick smirked.

"He has more," the Joker admitted. "There goes a potential love interest, Dick."

"Darn. Being a vigilante doesn't give that much room to dating," Dick said jokingly, the guests in attendance were all super-heroes anyway. "I'll live."

The Joker had been pretty quiet about Bruce's both Dick and Tim taking to vigilantism, although he did try to allude to his husband that he should become a hero. Maybe even a super hero. He was already a great dad. Bruce said no, though. "I wonder what would happen if your dad ever became a super hero."

"It'd be scary," Dick laughed, "he'd rule Gotham with an iron fist."

Cassandra moaned and started to make grabby hands at the only other baby at the venue. The Joker shook his head and chided, loudly so Lex could hear, "No Cassandra, that's Connor. He's a bad baby."

"Whose baby you calling a bad baby?" Clark took a step forward, which would have been menacing as superman, but was silly looking dork in his glasses and cheap, brown suit. Clark immediately melted at the little girl's cuteness, "Hi Miss Cassandra."

The Joker held back his dark laughter, his daughter was already irresistible. The plan was working.

Bruce tossed his bouquet in the air without warning, many of the single women burst into an outrage as there was no warning. It fell between the awkwardly dancing Jason and Beast Boy, who hit Jason with the bouquet and stormed off muttering something about _a marriage_ and _a curse_. Joker smiled brightly as Bruce strode his way, the billionaires free hands wide open. "Here comes the bride."

Unfortunately for the Joker, Bruce was merely taking the small baby in his arms instead of the purple suited clown. "Just taking back what was mine."

"Hey, I found that newborn in a sewer, fair and square." The Joker jostled back, holding onto one of Cassandra's chubby arms. "Finder's keepers."

Bruce handed the infant over to Dick who smiled far to close to Cassandra's face, making her scowl and then laugh.

"I wanted to dance with my husband," Bruce took the Joker in his arms, who fluffed and pretended to be a flattered maiden.

"Oh," the Joker pulled in closer, "your shoulders are so broad. Are you sure you don't want to be a super hero?"

"I'm the richest man in Gotham married to the evilest clown in Gotham." Bruce dipped his husband low and the clown kick up his leg and laughed. Pulling his spouse back to his feet, Bruce pulled the Joker close. "Are you a Super villain, by any chance J?"

The Joker began to sweat a little, mustering up some deception. "Oh no. Of course not."

"Sure feels like it. Well, being married to you—" Bruce leaned into a kiss. "Doesn't that automatically make me some kind of hero? I'm keeping the streets safe. It should at least give me a super power."

"The power of endurance," the Joker pressed closer, swaying to his own beat, against the music, "you're going to need that tonight."

It was the theme of their marriage.

And their relationship endured all sorts of madness, and zany plots and other hardships that included Connor Kent-Luthor mostly keeping him away from their daughter. All the way to the end.

[**The End**]

Thanks for reading! Yep, it's over!  
**_If you love me, then you will tell me: _**  
1) one you you liked  
2) one thing you didn't like (Because I'm ballsy enough to ask.)


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